The Moment That Cost A Lifetime
by KidetteQueen
Summary: In the space of a moment, life can change forever.
1. Prologue

**_A/N:_**_ This story was originally published on my TYR fan site, The Kidnation, many many years ago. As usual, I am making some minor edits as I post. _

**_Abilene, Kansas  
October 4, 1871_**

"Leave it to Jimmy Hickok to take a job in a town like this," Kid lay awake in bed, muttering unhappily. The sounds of Abilene nightlife filled the bedroom of the small house, even though the windows were closed. The sounds seeped in through the cracks it seemed, and could be heard almost as plainly as if there was no barrier trying to block them.

"Mmmm," Lou ran her hands through his hair. "I expect we'll get used to it before too long."

"Probably," Kid agreed. "But in the meantime, Jimmy's gonna have a tired deputy on his hands."

"You know Jimmy's just glad to have you here," Lou chided him.

Jimmy had written to his old friends not long after he'd been named marshal of Abilene, asking Kid to come work with him as his deputy. Kid had been loath to bring Lou to a town like Abilene, but they were both anxious to leave Virginia. The War Between the States had destroyed Kid's beloved homeland, and the subsequent reconstruction did little to repair the damage. Both found themselves yearning for the wide open spaces they had left behind in the west, especially Lou, who did not have the memories of Virginia before the war to look back on. They saw no opportunity for escape though, as their family from their Pony Express days had scattered all over the country. Rachel was married and living in California. Buck had a ranch in New Mexico Territory. Teaspoon hadn't been heard from since he left for Texas just after the war started. Cody was still scouting for the army, and Jimmy had tried his hand at law enforcement in various towns in Kansas, until the citizens of Abilene had called him to be their marshal. He had asked Kid to work with him, saying he needed someone he could trust. Kid had almost said no, knowing the kind of town that Abilene was. But his father's sordid past was catching up to him, as his father's old "friends" began to show up at the farm, thinking the man would still be there, even after all those years. It had gotten worse toward the end, as, for some reason, more and more men of bad character began to show up, looking for something. They never did find out what. At first Kid figured they would eventually realize his father was gone for good and leave them alone, but he was proven frightfully wrong. Seven men had shown up a couple hours before dawn one night, and when Kid had met them on the porch with his shotgun, as had become his custom, they had started shooting.

Kid had managed to get out of the way, but not without being wounded in the leg, and all the windows in the front of the house had been shot out. The men finally left, but they promised to return in a few days, with more men, ready to take the house, no matter who was still there.

"Lou, do you think we did the right thing comin' here?" Kid could not help voicing his doubts over the way they had left Virginia. He hated feeling like he had run away. He hated that he had lost his family's land, which he had been so proud to repurchase from the bank when he and Lou arrived in Virginia, for the second time.

"Kid, we had no choice, you know that," Lou's words were spoken soothingly. "Kid, you know the bank was gonna repossess the farm, and you know we were looking for a way to leave Virginia anyway. Jimmy's letter just had good timing."

"I don't know, Lou," Kid protested. "I never would have agreed to come here if we hadn't been running away."

"Where else would we have gone, Kid? You know if we stayed, they would have come back. And even if they didn't, we would have had to go somewhere when the bank took the farm. It was a miracle we were able to hold onto it as long as we did."

Kid knew what she said was true. Businessmen from the North had taken over banks all over the south, looking to profit from the aftermath of the war, and they were calling in loans just as fast as they could. Most of their neighbors had already lost their land.

"Besides," Lou snuggled into his arms. "If they came back, they would have killed you, and I can't live without you, Kid." She smiled to herself as one memory of that night came to her. "I guess them showing up had its advantages though; well, one advantage anyway."

"What's that?" Kid wondered.

"I finally learned your real name," Lou stifled a giggle as Kid tickled her ribs. Kid could not stop a smile of his own. That night, one of the men had recognized him as "Little Mikey Williams," and Lou hadn't let him forget it ever since.

"I still don't understand why you kept it from us all those years," Lou sighed. She had never gotten an explanation from Kid.

"Lou, when I first signed on with the Express, I was runnin' from everything that name had ever meant. I'd been called Kid my whole life, so it made sense to just keep goin' by that anyway. And then, well you and the boys had come up with so many ludicrous ideas of what my name was, I hated to disappoint you by having such a normal, boring name." Kid tickled her side again. "Besides, admit it. You liked the mystery of it all."

Lou chose not to acknowledge his last statement, true as it was. "Go to sleep, Mikey."

Kid groaned as she giggled softly. "That's Mike to you, Loulabelle."

* * *

"Wake up sleepy-head." Lou opened her eyes to see Kid staring down at her. Even after ten years of marriage, she still loved waking up to the sight of him.

"Is it morning already?" She sat up, rubbing her eyes.

"I'm afraid so," Kid replied. "I've got to go."

"Don't you want breakfast?"

"Already got it. And here, my love, is yours." Kid handed her a plate of bacon and eggs.

"Oh, Kid! Breakfast in bed?" Lou grinned at him happily. Kid had mastered bacon and eggs in the course of their marriage, and every so often he would get up early and serve her breakfast in bed. "What's the occasion?"

"Do I need one?" Kid leaned down to kiss her. "I just wanted to tell you how much I love you."

Lou marveled, as she did every time he did something like this, at how thoughtful and loving he was. She counted herself blessed beyond measure to be married to him.

"What are you thinking about?" Kid smiled tenderly at her. She was just as beautiful as the day he met her, maybe even more so, he mused.

"Just counting my blessings," she replied. "Now you get out of here. You don't want to be late."

"Oh, I'm sure Jimmy would understand," Kid mumbled as he bent down to kiss her again. "I love you, Lou."

"I love you too, Kid."

"I'll see you tonight."

* * *

"Been a long day," the young deputy remarked from his position at the desk.

"Sure has," Kid agreed, locking the cell door on yet another drunk cowboy, come to town to spend his wages on cheap whisky and women.

"Why don't you go on home Kid," the other deputy caught the keys Kid tossed him. "Eat supper with that pretty wife of yours, and try to get some sleep tonight."

"Do I really look that bad?" Kid remarked wryly.

"It's hard to get used to all the noise here, and it shows for a while. Don't worry, before long, you'll wonder how you ever lived in the peace and quiet."

"If you say so," Kid said, unbelievingly. "Alright, I'm heading home now. You know where to find me if there's any trouble."

* * *

"Marshal Hickok!" The young man burst into the Alamo Saloon, where Jimmy could usually be found. Sure enough, he was there, playing cards at his customary table. He sat facing the door so he could see everyone who came into the saloon.

"Marshal Hickok, Phil Coe just shot up the Diamond Saloon, and he's threatening to shoot up the rest of the town," the messenger panted, out of breath.

Jimmy silently set his cards face down on the table, downed the shot of whiskey in front of him, and stood up. His actions were slow and deliberate - a far cry from the hot-headed young man who had first signed on with the Express.

"Gentlemen, we'll finish this hand in a moment." His voice was soft, but his tone left no room for debate, and the other players at the table knew better than to try to cheat by looking at his cards. He walked out of the saloon and down the boardwalk toward the other end of town. Gunshots sounded from inside the Diamond, and a few seconds later a rugged man burst through the doors and into the street, waving his gun and shooting into the air.

"Phil Coe!" Jimmy hollered, his commanding voice easily carrying across the street to the man.

"What do you want?" Coe sneered at the sight of the badge Jimmy wore. "This cow town's got a marshal? Well, it won't for long." He spat, the tobacco juice hitting the ground at his feet. "What's your name, Marshal?"

"Hickok," Jimmy's tone was even, his gaze unwavering. "Wild Bill Hickok." Coe was momentarily startled, and Jimmy knew he would be able to take the troublemaker.

Coe quickly hid his surprise though and sneered again. "Wild Bill, huh? I've been lookin' to meet up with you."

"Let's get on with it then. I've got a card game to get back to," Jimmy moved his coat aside to reveal the two ivory handled navy colts strapped to his hips."

"Not tonight you don't," Coe snarled. He pulled his gun, but before he could get a shot off, Jimmy, with the lightning speed which had made him famous, had drawn and fired. Coe fell, dead before he reached the ground.

Jimmy shook his head, long past any remorse he had once felt when he was forced to kill a man. Coe never even stood a chance.

The next moment would haunt Jimmy for the rest of his life. He heard footsteps running up behind him and a voice yell "Hickok!" followed by the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking. Thinking Coe must have had a friend in town, and that friend was trying to avenge Coe's death, Jimmy spun around and fired. He was greeted by the look of shock on Kid's face as, his gun drawn and the tell-tale red stain spreading across his chest, his best friend fell to the ground...


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Jimmy stood rooted to the ground, watching with horror as Kid fell. Kid. His best friend. Kid had been shot.

His brain was telling him to find the person that did it. But just as soon as he began to process that thought and look around the gathering crowd for the guilty party, reality hit him like a blow to the stomach. He shot Kid. He shot Kid. His best friend was lying on the ground, and it was his fault.

He moved toward Kid with determined steps. He had to make sure Kid was alright. Breaking through the crowd surrounding the fallen deputy, he was relieved to see the doctor was already there, kneeling next to Kid, checking his wound. The doctor looked up at him silently, but no words were needed. Jimmy knew then that Kid was dead.

"I'll have him brought to the undertakers," the doctor spoke quietly. "Somebody needs to go tell his wife."

Jimmy looked at the doctor with a start. Lou. How was he going to tell her? There was no question in his mind that he would be the one to tell her; but he was not sure if he could do it. He imagined her, waiting for Kid in their little house on the edge of town. Kid usually went home about this time. The thought stopped Jimmy in his tracks. Kid probably had been on his way home when he heard the commotion and ran to help. Any other moment, and things would have been different.

Looking up, he realized he was standing in front of Lou and Kid's house. Every muscle in his body resisted walking up the steps to their porch, but he forced himself to move. Lou met him at the door, and Jimmy vaguely remembered Kid inviting him to dinner that night. He could see behind her, into the kitchen, where the table was set for three.

"Hey there, stranger," Lou smiled at him. "I'm glad you decided to come. Come on in. I figured you'd come with Kid, but he should probably be home any minute." Jimmy found himself following her inside, as she continued talking. "Supper is ready. It's not much, just stew and biscuits, but it's every bit as good as Rachel's used to be, if I do say so myself. We'll eat as soon as Kid gets home."

"Lou," Jimmy finally found his voice. He knew he could not put off telling her any longer; but how was he going to tell her that he had just ruined her life?

Lou turned around to face him. She could tell by the way he said her name that it was serious, and the sorrow and misery in his eyes confirmed that something was indeed very, very wrong.

"Where's Kid, Jimmy?" she asked, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. It was just her imagination. Jimmy was there for supper, not to bring her terrible news. Jimmy's silence was all too real, however, and she knew. Something had happened to Kid.

"Jimmy, where is he?"

"There was some trouble in town," Jimmy began, intent upon telling her the whole story.

"Jimmy," Lou interrupted, forcing the words out. "Where is my husband?"

"Doc took him to..." Jimmy grabbed her arm to stop her as she started toward the door. He knew she would not find him at the doctor's office. "Lou, Doc took him to the undertakers." He said the words as gently as he could, but there was no way to make them any less cold and harsh.

Jimmy watched in misery as Lou processed his words. Her expression went from panic to shock, as the color drained from her face. She stood in front of him, pale and trembling.

"Lou, I'm so sorry," Jimmy pulled her into his arms, and she broke down. Lou cried into his chest as he held her tightly and whispered the words again and again. "I'm so sorry, Lou. I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry."


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

The day of Kid's funeral dawned bright and clear. It was Kid's favorite kind of day; a bright blue sky with barely a cloud in it. The autumn air was cool and crisp, and the sun was shining.

Lou turned away from the window and mechanically went through the motions of dressing. It just was not right that Kid was not here to share this lovely day - probably the last really nice day they would have until spring - with her. Instead, she would be burying him today. She couldn't help but feel that the weather should be dark and gloomy, to match the state of her emotions.

She spotted one of Kid's shirts on the bed and automatically moved toward it. She had not been able to sleep in their bed since it happened, spending her nights instead in the rocking chair which sat in the corner of the room. The rocking chair was the only piece of furniture they had brought with them from Virginia. Kid had lovingly hand carved it, spending hours upon hours working on it so he could surprise her with it. Lou was expecting their first child, and Kid was almost beside himself with excitement. Before the chair was finished though, Lou had miscarried, and the doctor said she would never be able to have another. The young couple had been devastated. Lou had withdrawn, spending most of her days in bed, barely eating and refusing to talk to Kid. Kid, for his part, sought solace in his craftsmanship. Something drove him to finish the chair, even though he no longer planned to give it to Lou. Their marriage was in serious danger until one day, about a month after the miscarriage, Lou had stumbled upon Kid in the barn, sanding the exquisite chair. The sight had snapped her out of her shell, and they had grieved together for the first time. Lou had insisted Kid put the chair in their bedroom, and they had both drawn comfort from it as they worked through the pain. And so it was that Lou had found herself drawn to it the past two nights, as she faced the biggest loss of her life.

Picking up Kid's shirt, she moved to the rocking chair and sat down. Holding the blue fabric to her nose, she breathed in his scent. She could not believe that it was only two mornings ago that she had kissed Kid goodbye for the last time. How could she go on without him?

* * *

The entire town gathered for the funeral. In a town like Abilene, funerals were an everyday occurrence and did not command much attention, but this one was different. Many turned out just to witness the spectacle. The story of Wild Bill's fatal mistake had spread like wildfire, and many curious eyes watched the funeral service. Reporters were there in abundance also, taking notes and interviewing others in attendance. But many of the people who showed up were there out of love and respect for Kid. Though he had only been in town a short time, Kid had earned the respect of every law abiding citizen in town; and even that of some who were often on the wrong side of the law. While some of the deputies were hot headed, often rushing to judgments, Kid had become known for his habit of learning the whole situation and appealing to justice for all concerned.

"Excuse me, ma'am," one of the reporters approached Lou seconds after the preacher said the final amen. "May I speak to you for a moment?"

"Get out of here," the doctor quickly moved to Lou's side as other reporters made a beeline for her. "Didn't your mothers teach you any manners? Leave Mrs. Williams alone for God's sake." He turned gentle eyes toward Lou. "Ma'am, my wife has instructed me to bring you home for dinner."

"Thank you, really, but I would rather stay here," Lou replied quietly, her eyes focused on the men who were shoveling dirt into Kid's grave. She could not leave just yet, could not face the finality of that action.

"Louise," the doctor spoke firmly. "I can tell you haven't been getting the proper rest and nutrition in the last few days, and as your doctor, I am afraid I must insist that you come with me. These reporters will be hanging around here for a while anyway. If you come with me, and eat, and then get some rest, I'll walk you back here later this evening and fend off any reporters still here myself."

Lou nodded, knowing she could not win the argument. She allowed the doctor to lead her out of the cemetery, away from the curious stares of the onlookers.

* * *

Two gray eyes followed Lou's back as she walked toward the doctor's house. The eyes reflected a sorrow that penetrated into the very soul of their owner.

Jimmy stood on a hill beyond the cemetery, shielded from the view of those below him by a stand of trees. He watched the funeral, thankful that Lou's back was to him so he could not see her face. He could not bear to see her face, knowing that she would look at him with the same expression she had when she first heard the whole story.

_"Lou," he released her from his hold._

_"I have to go to him, Jimmy," Lou turned toward the door. "I have to see for myself."_

_"Lou, wait," Jimmy held her back. "Lou," he paused, gathering the strength to continue; to tell her the truth. "Lou, it's all my fault." He told her the whole story, claiming all the blame. And when he finished, she just stared at him, despair flooding her eyes, piercing through him like a knife, until she turned and ran from the house. He had not followed her, knowing she was going to see Kid; and he just could not face what he had done. That was the last time he had talked to her._

The day after the shooting, there was an investigation, but there were plenty of witnesses to testify that Jimmy shot in self-defense, and no charges were pressed. As soon as the results of the investigation were given, Jimmy handed in his badge, packed his things, and left town.

That had been last night. He intended to get as far away from Abilene as he could, but he found himself unable to leave without saying goodbye to his best friend. So he watched the funeral from a distance, and he watched as Lou and the doctor came back in the late afternoon, the doctor holding the reporters back so Lou could have some time alone with Kid. He watched as they left at sunset, the reporters trickling away soon after, and finally, under the cover of darkness, he made his way to the cemetery and knelt beside Kid's grave.

"Kid," he spoke, the word coming out in a choke. He couldn't do it. He could not come to Kid seeking forgiveness. There was no forgiveness for what he had done.

Rising, he walked out of the cemetery and up the hill to where his horse was hidden. Mounting, he rode into the darkness, away from Abilene, never looking back.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

November 3, 1871

Dear Rachel,

This will not be a happy letter, I must warn you now. I am assuming you received my telegram about Kid and read the whole story in all the papers by now.

Oh, Rachel, the past few weeks have been so hard. I still cannot believe that Kid is gone. Everyone is saying that the pain will decrease with time, but I just cannot understand how that can be so. I miss him more and more with each day that passes...I never want to quit missing him, Rachel. During the day, I keep thinking of things I want to tell him, little stories about things that happened while he was at work. And then I remember that he won't be coming home from work again. But the nights are the worst. The bed is too big without him there to share it. The darkness used to be comforting, when I could lie there in his arms, unable to see the worries that would be revealed by the light of day; but now, now it is cold and smothering. At least during the day I have those worries to keep me busy, but at night I am left with nothing but the knowledge that Kid is gone.

Back when we all lived in Sweetwater, I never imagined that I could ever be lonely. I had built up so many defenses, swearing to myself that I would never let anyone in. That way, nobody could ever hurt me. I was happy to be left alone. But Kid started tearing down those defenses bit by bit, from the minute he found out I was a girl, until his love filled up all the space that my defenses had once taken up, and he became a part of me. And he is still there, Rachel, but there is an emptiness now that my memories of him cannot fill; and I am lonely. I need him so much! I, who never needed anybody, need Kid more than I need air. And yet, as much as I need him, I know that need will never bring him back, and that is the loneliest feeling in the world-to need someone that much and know they can never be there.

Rachel, have you heard from Jimmy at all? He left town before the funeral, and I have not heard from him since he told me about Kid. I'm worried about him. I know he blames himself for what happened, and you know how Jimmy is. He'll never forgive himself. I don't know; maybe part of me blames him too. I mean, Kid and Jimmy were best friends. Jimmy should have known his voice. But they had been apart for so long, and I know Kid had not seen him much since we moved to Abilene. So maybe it is unfair to expect that Jimmy would know it was Kid. Jimmy only reacted to the situation, and while I want to hate him and blame him, I know in my heart that I cannot. Kid would not blame him, and I do not blame him. I only hope Jimmy can stop blaming himself.

Write me soon, Rachel. I need to hear from you so desperately right now.

Louise


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

November 23, 1871

Dearest Louise,

Where do I start? Oh, honey, I wish I could be there for you right now. I had no idea about what happened until Clark and I got home from Sacramento earlier today. We've been in Sacramento for the past two months. Clark was elected to the state legislature, so we were living there while it was in session. The story of the shooting was in all the papers, of course, but, oh Louise, I had no idea it was Kid.

Louise, I know you probably do not want to hear this right now, but it does get easier with time, honey, it really does. You will never stop missing Kid, but the pain becomes more bearable. The memories you have of your life with him will fill up that emptiness you are feeling right now, and those memories are what will get you through.

I wish I could tell you that I have heard from Jimmy and that he is fine, but I have not heard from him at all. You know how he is, Louise. He will avoid us all until he forgives himself.

Louise, come to California. Come stay at the ranch with Clark and me for a while. It will do you good to be around your family right now. Consider it, honey.

Love,

Rachel


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

_December 3, 1872_

"Why, Jimmy Hickok," the blonde man in buckskins took the seat next to Jimmy at the bar. "Whiskey," he addressed the bartender. "I heard you were in town."

"What do you want, Cody?" Jimmy continued to nurse his bottle of whiskey, one shot at a time, not bothering to look at the man beside him.

"I heard you tried to steal one of my ideas."

"Go away Cody," Jimmy growled.

"Yeah, my idea," Cody continued, ignoring Jimmy. "An idea I had way back when we rode for the Express. An idea about bringing the Wild West to the people back east. And I hear you tried to steal that idea."

"So what if I did," Jimmy muttered. "It was a stupid idea anyway. It'll never work."

"Oh, but it did work," Cody said smugly. "It worked in St. Louis, and in Philadelphia. And it will work next month in Washington, and then in New York. In St. Louis, the crowds filled the tent, hundreds of people, every night for a week."

"What the hell are you babbling on and on about, Cody?" Jimmy finally had enough.

"This." Cody shoved a poster in front of Jimmy.

"What's this?" Jimmy picked it up.

"Read it," Cody insisted.

"Buffalo Bill Cody presents the Wild West in all its glory. Live Indians, Buffalo, Gunfighters, Trick Shooting, and Trick Riding."

Jimmy handed the poster back to Cody. "That's nice Cody. I hope you have better luck with it than I did." He finally looked at his old friend. "So, what do you want from me?"

Cody looked at him innocently. "What do you mean?"

"I know you, Cody. You want something."

"Alright, you are right," Cody conceded. "I want you to be part of the show."

"No."

"Just think about it, Hickok," Cody would not give up. "Come to Washington and see how you like it."

"No, Cody."

"You should give it a try Jimmy," Cody said angrily. "At least then you'd be doin' something. All you do now is drink cheap whiskey, play cards, and wait for the next fame seeking gunslinger to call you out. What happened to Kid wasn't your fault, Jimmy. It was a terrible mistake, but it wasn't your fault. You can't go on blaming yourself anymore. It's in the past. Put it behind you and get on with your life."

"That's easy for you to say," Jimmy's eyes flashed with anger. "But what do you know? He was my best friend. I should have known it was him, should have recognized his voice. But I didn't. I shot him instead. His life ended because of me. You tell me to get on with my life. Well, what about Kid's life? Huh? It's my fault that he can't get on with that. And Lou's life? What about hers? It's my fault she had her husband taken from her. It's my fault that she and Kid can't grow old together."

"Jimmy, listen to yourself," Cody interrupted. "It was not your fault. Nobody blames you. Not me, not Rachel, not even Lou. Nobody blames you but you."

"Go away Cody."

"Fine, I'll leave you to wallow in your self-pity," Cody turned away. "If you change your mind about being part of the show, let me know."

Cody walked out of the saloon, leaving Jimmy alone. He knew that Jimmy could never be talked into anything. He would only grow more stubborn if Cody tried to push him, so he left.

After Cody left, Jimmy sat at the bar alone. He downed shot after shot of whiskey, but even that could not stop Cody's words from repeating themselves over and over again in his mind. "Terrible mistake...in the past...wasn't your fault...get on with your life..."

_No. It wasn't true. It WAS his fault._ Jimmy sat at the bar until the bartender called for the last round, and then stumbled to his room on the second floor of the saloon, where he collapsed on his bed in a drunken stupor.

His dreams that night, as they were every night, were filled with haunting images of that fateful day. He saw Phil Coe there, mocking him, challenging him. But then, as he drew his gun and shot Coe changed, and it was Kid standing there. Kid was the one mocking him, pointing at him as the bullet hit him. Kid was the one telling him it was his fault. There was no forgiveness for him, not after what he had done. He was destined to live out the rest of his days in misery, knowing what he had done, and paying for it. And then, his death would come, but it would not come mercifully, he knew, for if it would, he would have welcomed it already.

It was those images that flowed in and out of his mind as he slept the deep sleep of drunkenness. It was those images that kept him tossing and turning, pulling the sheets off the bed and pushing them to the floor. And it was those images which finally woke him, shaking and covered in sweat. He had a horrible headache, only intensified by the alcohol still flowing in his blood. Early afternoon sunlight streamed into his room, blinding him. He had to get out of there.

He got out of bed, ignoring his pounding head, and quickly dressed, anxious to quell his memories. He headed down the stairs to the saloon and found a card game in progress. Ordering whiskey, he downed the first shot, welcoming the numbing clarity it brought. He ordered another as he threw his ante into the pot and quickly lost himself in the cards and drink. It was only at times like this, when he was surrounded by people who couldn't give a damn about him, drowning himself in alcohol, that he found any peace.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

_**Deadwood, South Dakota**__ August 2, 1876_

Jimmy sat on the bed in his room, clutching the envelope he had just been handed. The writing on the front was something he had not seen in years, but he would know it anywhere. She had finally tracked him down, and now he was not sure if he could stand to read what she had to say. It was easy for him to blame himself, to imagine that Lou blamed him, but he could not take it if he heard it from Lou herself. Like an unseen force, though, something compelled him to open the letter and read:

_Dear Jimmy,_

_I hope to God that you get this letter. I don't expect you to reply, but I beg of you, please read this the whole way through. I have some things to tell you that I think you need to hear, so please, Jimmy, hear me out._

_Jimmy, what happened to Kid was not your fault. It took me a while to be able to accept that, but it is true. Kid was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I wish more than anything that we could all go back and change what happened that day, but we can't. We can only go on with our lives, keeping Kid's memory safe in our hearts. But we have to go on._

_Cody told me that you joined his show in New York a few years back. I never imagined you as the big city type, and I guess you aren't since you didn't stay very long. He told me about meeting you in that saloon and how you refused his offer to join the show, but then showed up in New York a few months later. He also told me that you were still blaming yourself when you left the show. I've been trying to find you ever since, and I pray that you are still in Deadwood and this letter finds you; and that you heed what I say._

_I still miss Kid every day, but I am getting on with my life, and I hope you will be able to do the same. A couple months after Kid died, I came out here to California to visit Rachel. I started to feel sick on the train, so I saw a doctor when I got to California. Jimmy, you know I had a miscarriage years ago, not long after Kid and I were married, and that the doctor told me I would never have children. Well, he must have been wrong, because the doctor in California told me I was three months pregnant. I admit, it helped me survive the pain of Kid's death knowing that I would still have a part of him. James Michael Williams, Jamie, was born on June 24, 1872, and he has been my life ever since. He looks just like Kid, Jimmy, with the same blue eyes, and the same brown wavy hair, and Kid's smile._

_But that is not all. About two years ago, I met a wonderful man named Jack. We've been married for about six months now. Kid will always be in my heart, and Jack understands that, but I'm learning more and more every day that there is room there for my love for Jack too. He will never take Kid's place, but he has his own place there now. It took me a long time to realize that; to realize that my relationship with Jack was not dishonoring Kid's memory at all. But Jimmy, I really am happy now, as happy as I was when Kid and I were married. And I know that is what Kid would have wanted for me._

_I knew Kid better than anyone, Jimmy, and he would not blame you for what happened. Come visit me in California, please. The only missing piece of my life right now is the knowledge that you have finally forgiven yourself. Promise me that you will do that Jimmy. I cannot be completely at peace until I know that you are finally at peace._

_Jimmy, my friend, I have missed you since the day you left Abilene. Please come see me. I love you Jimmy Hickok, I always have, no matter what. No matter what. Please believe that, Jimmy, because I mean it with all my heart. Come visit me, and see for yourself._

_With all my love,_

_Louise_

Jimmy folded up the letter slowly and deliberately, Lou's words embedded in his mind. He closed his eyes, trying to erase them, but they just glowed there in the darkness, as if they were carved into his eyelids. She couldn't mean it. There was no way that Lou could have forgiven him for what he did. But there it was, in black and white, for him to read. She forgave him. She did not blame him. She had named her son after him.

But could he believe her? _'That's silly Hickok,'_ he thought to himself. _'Lou would never lie about that. If she says she doesn't blame you, then she doesn't blame you.'_

He put the letter in his shirt pocket, knowing he would be reading it again and again until he decided whether to accept what Lou had to say or go on blaming himself. Oh, he did not tell himself that in those words, but in the back of his mind, he knew.

He would have to seriously consider going to California to see her. Maybe seeing her new life for himself would help. That decision would have to wait, though. He was expected downstairs half an hour ago for a card game. Leaving his room, he walked down to the saloon on the first floor to join the card game in progress. Seeing his group, he was dismayed to find that the only chair left was facing away from the door.

"Would one of you mind switching seats with me?" he approached the group. It was a well-known fact that Wild Bill Hickok never sat with his back to the door. Ever since Abilene, he had refused to accept a position as marshal of any town, and had done his best to drop out of sight, but there was still the occasional fame seeker that would call him out. He had also been threatened more than once, so it had become his habit to always be aware of his surroundings. This included never sitting with his back to the door in a saloon, so that he could see everyone who walked in.

"Not today," one of the men at the table smirked. "Have a seat," he motioned pointedly to the empty chair.

Jimmy sighed and sat down. He knew the men thought he was overreacting with his insistence on never sitting with his back to the door, and maybe they were right. What harm could it be, just this once?

"Game's five card draw," the man next to him said, dealing the cards. "You in or out?"

"In," Jimmy threw his ante into the pot. He spent the next couple hours concentrating on hand after hand, as the pile of money beside him grew.

"Sure gathering a lot of our money there," one man joked. "Got any big plans for that pile?"

"Yep," Jimmy grinned. "I'm making a little trip to California. Gonna visit a friend of mine."

"Sounds nice."

"Hey, anyone got the time?" Jimmy asked.

"Yeah, it's about five minutes after four," one of the men replied.

"Thanks. I've got time for one more hand," he took the cards that were dealt to him. It was a great hand: two aces, two eights, and a five. "I'm in," he threw some money into the pot, concentrating on each of the other players to see their reactions. He had learned to read his opponents well, and that was coming in handy tonight. "One," he threw the five onto the table and took the card the dealer handed to him. It was a six. Well, that was not what he wanted, but two pair was still a pretty good hand. The bidding went around the table, and just as he was about to make his bid, the doors to the saloon squeaked open, and a voice called out "Hickok!" just before a shot was heard.


	8. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Jimmy heard the shot as he felt something hit him in the back. He slumped forward, over the table, as the cards fell out of his hand and a warmth spread throughout his body. He had no control over his body; he could not speak, or move, or signal to the people around him that he needed help. He was aware of a commotion, as the men at his table all jumped out of their chairs and other people in the saloon started shouting, but he could not turn around to see what it was all about. Somebody must have been shot, but who? And who had done it?

It was only when the warmth in his body began to be replaced by a pain more intense than he had ever known that he became aware that he was the one who had been shot. He wondered why they were leaving him there, slumped against the table, for so long. Why weren't they helping him? In reality, it had been only a few seconds since the shot rang out, but death has no sense of time, space, or distance, so for Jimmy it could have been hours. He was aware of what was going on, but suddenly, he was watching it rather than just hearing it.

This was not supposed to be happening. He was down there playing poker, winning enough money to go visit Lou in California. He could not be dead. He had to go see Lou. He had to know that she forgave him. He could not die without knowing that, without being able to know that so he could forgive himself. He felt in his pocket for Lou's letter.

"It's not there, Jimmy." The voice behind him startled him, and he turned around. For some reason, he was not surprised to see Kid standing there. Not too far behind him stood Teaspoon, Noah, and Ike.

"What?" he asked.

"The letter. It's not in your pocket. Well, not in that pocket anyway," Kid nodded toward the scene below them. People were turning Jimmy's body over as the doctor made his way to the table. Jimmy shuddered at the sight of the red stain that had spread over his back and chest, the bullet having entered his back and exited from his chest after piercing through his heart. The doctor pulled a piece of paper from his front pocket. It was bloodstained, with a bullet hole, but he recognized it as Lou's letter. For the first time, he was aware that he no longer felt any pain.

"She was telling the truth," Kid spoke again. "She never blamed you Jimmy. What happened to me was not your fault. You've always viewed that moment as one which cost a lifetime, but it didn't. It merely changed the course of lives."

For the first time, Jimmy was able to hear those words and accept them. "Kid, I'm so sorry," he had wanted to say those words to his best friend for years, but he had never been able to bring himself to do that. Now, here he was, standing face to face with Kid, and he finally knew he had the forgiveness he had longed, but never dared hope, for. Still, he had to say the words.

"I know, Jimmy," Kid hugged him tightly. "Let's go."

"Where are we going?" Jimmy asked, knowing he should be unsure about this, but strangely feeling like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Home," Kid said simply.

Jimmy smiled as he and Kid joined the others. He was greeted by the members of his family that had left before he did, and for the first time since they had all ridden for the Express together he felt at peace. He finally belonged.

"Let's go home."

**The End**


End file.
